


Under The Same Moon

by snomrights



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:26:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snomrights/pseuds/snomrights
Summary: Felix must live up to the Fraldarius name and kill a werewolf; however, his reality shifts when a hunt leads to a run-in with a beastly werewolf, Dimitri. Over time through strife and loss, the two face their insecurities together and form an unbreakable bond.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: Dimilix Big Bang





	1. Waning Crescent

What began as a light drizzle and calming breeze had quickly grown into a relentless storm. Wind howled through the writhing trees and lightning decorated the sky with yellow veins. The night was dark and the forest was coated with a thick fog, and rain fell with an unforgiving ferocity and turned to sleat as it passed through the chill temperature. Heart racing and boots trembling, a sole squadron of huntsmen remained out. The icey rain was sharp and soaked through their beaten leather coats, leaving their faces raw and eyes squinting. Their torches were all extinguished in the dampness, left only with the lightning to guide them in the dark. They moved quickly down the hill, many struggling to keep their footing. Bound and bucking, their horses awaited them at the bottom. 

Horse’s gallops echoed throughout the ravine as they made their way toward their makeshift campsite within a well covered grove. The leader of the group silently raised a hand, and a swiftly summoned huntsman stepped forwards to report, “we have 6 injured but none left behind, commander Fraldarius.”

“It’s Felix,” he snapped cooly, lips slightly pulled back to reveal the tips of his canines, “and fine, we will retreat at daybreak.” 

Felix  Hugo Fraldarius  was raised a huntsman and so he recognized the defeat, understanding when to call a hunt off. He was a natural leader, and as much as it would pain him to admit, he was passionate about the safety of those around him. He spoke with a certain power and pride that demanded obedience, and he was crafty in this word choice - never missing an opportunity for a quick jest. But, his incapability of expressing his emotions left him robotic and stiff. There was a lump that had been stuck in his throat for as long as anyone knew him, and no amount of yelling could release it. 

Oftentimes, Felix would lead huntsmen on successful missions, bringing home assorted game and rare foraged herbs. Not only did they provide Fhirdiad with food and medicinal supplies - but they granted it protection. The woods that surrounded the village were rampant with otherworldly occurrences; goblins, pixies, and other small creatures would often stray out of their territory and into Fhirdiad, wreaking havoc on its inhabitants. Missions like these were to push beasts back far into the deepest corners of the woods, so that both groups could thrive in peace; however, every so often they would spiral into violent methods. This time, Felix had blindly led his cohort into a spontaneous storm after a rather unsuccessful attempt at reclaiming a stretch of forest that became overrun by unfriendly creatures. 

The tension in the air softened as the huntsmen at last sludged into the camp. It was small, certainly not large enough for 12 people; but their breathing was laboured and their muscles ached, so they made do. There were a couple of poorly pitched tents, and Felix guided the injured into the largest one that was marked as his own. None were in critical condition, yet still their pain fell twice fold upon Felix. He was accountable for them, and their safety rode on his shoulders. Felix shuffled through the contents of the makeshift medical tent, pulling bandages and blankets from the far side of the room as he lit a few low-hanging candles. The injured huntsmen would still be in pain, but at least they would begin to heal and could avoid infection. Most of the wounds were scratches and sprains. Nothing serious, but enough to call the hunt off. Felix was meticulously careful and he refused to risk a single life. 

One o f the injured huntsmen opened her mouth with a slow shake of her head, “Felix, you couldn’t have predicted this.” She was far older than Felix and stood a few inches taller than the five foot eight man. Her hair was a light honey and shallow wrinkles began to form around her forehead and mouth. 

Felix paused, allowing for the melody of rain that slapped the outside of the waterproof cloth to fill the silence. He sighed as he faced her, “I know, but I at least could’ve called it off before the storm worsened.” 

She nodded, “no one blames you.”

His voice grew sharper than intended, “I know.”

She chuckled as she gripped her side. It was a warm and motherly laugh, deep and smooth, “alright commander-”

“Felix.”

“Alright Felix,” she emphasized with a swift roll of her eyes, “have you received your next assignment yet?”

“Why would that matter to you,” Felix stiffened into the question as though it were an interrogation. 

“I just wanted to see if there was a chance I’d get to be with you again,” she smiled, “we all like working with you, you know.”

Felix’s shoulders shifted in relief and his tension eased, “I’ll be sure to be more stern in the future then.”

“We know,” she laughed, “but, to get back to the question.”

Felix squinted and his gaze became sharp , “it looks like we will be doing a lot more of this for the next few months. The storms have been growing more unpredictable, and we can’t set out too far or for too long.”

It was not hard for the other huntsmen to overhear their conversation in the cramped tent. Their usual missions had taken an unpredicted shift at the start of Red Wolf Moon when the weather drastically changed. In previous years the storms had never started this early, but freezing rain and even snow had quickly enveloped the land and led hunters to take extra precautions in their plans due to the uncertainty in its patterns. No sooner had Felix muttered his plans, a deafening clap of thunder rang throughout the forest and echoed through their camp. 

“Grab the supplies you leave and promptly return to your assigned tents,” Felix ordered, “now!”

They followed his orders swiftly, but, if they had stayed a second longer they would have noticed the tremble that grew in Felix’s hands. All of their lives were in danger for Felix, yet, they insisted with a smile that they enjoyed working with him. With each passing mission Felix grew more impatient and desperate for success; but, part of the game of being a hunter was never finding resolution. Felix pressed his face against the chill canvas that lined his tent and after a minute of only seeing his own breath, he blew out the candles. If there had not been storm clouds that night, Felix would have watched the waning crescent moon as the stars crept across the sky. Instead, he drifted to sleep in the cold torment he grew all too familiar with. 

* * *

The angry wind that had once rushed through the trees had quelled, survived only by the rain that was now falling much more softly. Dawn was approaching, and light just began to creep over the horizon of jagged mountains and lush evergreens. It was no surprise that Felix was the only one up. He crouched outside his tent on the damp forest floor as he listened to stirrings from a few of his companions. From far off, glimpsed only quickly through the thickening of trees, Felix saw an owl perching delicately upon a half-frozen branch in a tall pine that reached towards the marigold sunrise. The harsh storm had stripped the bark off many of the trees, littering the roots that hugged the forest floor. 

This was how most mornings were. Felix could never quite get a peaceful night's rest, always tapping out whoever had the last watch so that they could catch up on a few hours of sleep. The wash of new light that accompanied mornings brought warmth and nostalgia with its change, and Felix relied on that high to soothe himself. He pulled out a leather bound notebook from his jacket and flipped through the parchment filled with inky sketches and notes. Whenever he had moments to himself in silence, Felix found himself cataloguing his missions and findings for future record. Soon after Felix had finally settled into his pocket of bliss, a deep voice spoke from behind him, startling him. 

“There are much fewer deer than usual.” The man was tall. His skin was tanned and his shoulders were broad, and his chilled cheeks were coated in thick freckles. 

“Good morning to you too,” Felix huffed with a pitiful sigh as he hid the journal back into his coat. The man’s back stiffened at Felix’s bitterness, but, once earning a glance from the commander he sat down beside him to offer him a warm thermos filled with tea. Felix had not noticed the small fire towards the far end of the camp that the man used to boil the water, a large oversight that he took note of, but he accepted the tea none-the-less. 

“You know what I am going to say,” the huntsman spoke, eyebrows raising in concern. 

“And so you don’t need to say it,” Felix’s mouth quirked in annoyance. 

“But I will have to report it.” 

Felix froze. He did not like games: he liked a literal statement. Something cold, something concrete - some way that he could predict his enemy’s next move; “is this why you brought me tea?”

“Of course not, commander” he said with a forced smile.

He earned no reply. The huntsmen of Fhirdiad had been suspicious of the idea that another werewolf would be approaching soon. Around every decade one appeared, and there had not been any sightings since over that time. It was Fraldarius family history to hunt and kill one of these legendary beasts for sport, and Felix was no exception to these expectations. 

“It’s just a hunch, not evidence,” Felix said, voice unwavering. Felix understood the code and implications of their discussion, being wary to not speak too loudly.

“Well, sir, actually-” the huntsman spoke once more. 

“Actually what?” Felix growled.

“We believe we saw tracks and fur, before the rain washed them over,” he told Felix. 

Felix was silent. He lifted his chin and breathed in sharply, cool pine stinging his lungs. He might not have known it, but he looked tired. Like he was trying to fight it. He frowned, and then flicked his hand. The huntsman stood up and strode back towards his tent where others began to stir. Felix spent the rest of the morning on the damp lichen and rocks that lined the grove. Slowly, his cohort began to rise and pack their belongings. Felix’s tension began to fade as the relaxation of returning home set in, and the others seemed to feel a similar softening. They shouldered their bags and left the clearing. Felix would never mention the trip again, and once home the memories would be promptly extinguished. Once again, a failure.

* * *

Entering the village, the group sighed in relief- all except for Felix. His back stiffened and he held his breath. Missions were a regular occurrence in Fhirdiad, yet, somehow, its residents found a way to commemorate the hunters upon every return. It was usually something small; a basket of baked goods outside the houses of those returning, a warm greeting back at the base, or a dinner invite - three things Felix despised. 

The village was composed of a main road lined in cobblestone with many winding dirt alleys that were framed by jagged buildings. The road was well kept, clean and sturdy. However, the deeper into the town one traveled, and the more alleyways they passed, the decaying wood and crumbling bricks grew even more unavoidable. The elements did a number on Fhridiad, buildings fallen victim to the winds and the cracks in the stone were manifest evidence of ice damage. However, the smoke filled chimneys and faint candlelight rendered the town pleasant and warm. The disarray of colors and windows rendered it a pleasant concoction of styles and stories. They passed a marketplace that was lined with baskets of various fruits and freshly butchered meat that was hanging up to be dried and later salted. Felix gazed into the oversized windows that lined the storefronts and observed the sunlight that bathed the inside customers in a blanket of sunlight. 

As they made their way through the town they stopped for frequent welcomes and small-talk, each one chipping away further at Felix’s already slim patience. Eventually, they found themselves outside of a building that stood rather alone compared to all others. It sprang out of the dirt with an intimidating sturdiness, and thick green vines crawled over its deep brown bricks. The windows were rectangular and stiff, and unlike the other buildings near the market, it had no evidence of weather damage. 

Felix had only been away for a matter of days; however, the familiar spike of anxiety accompanied by the wave of relief let him know that he oddly missed being home. The streets and the people were the same in Fhirdiad - and yet, everything about his home was ever changing. New missions, unfamiliar faces from neighboring towns in need of a few extra hands, and carts full of new and unusual relics often found their way up the winding road and towards his house. It was used as the central hub for hunters and scholars of beasts and the unknown creatures that lurked the forests, as his family had collected a large array of artifacts and tomes that held invaluable knowledge. The main room served as a small trading and information front for all traveling hunters. Most items were free, only asking for a small donation or trade in return, as the advancement and pursuit of protecting Fhirdiad was beyond payment enough. The Fraldarius name held great prestige in the community due to their numerous generations of successful huntsmen and their vast collection of history in the field. 

Felix approached the intimidating wooden door in the center front of his house, wrapped his fingers around the bronze latch, and pushed. 


	2. Third Quarter

A soft chime at the door announced Felix’s arrival as he entered the dimly lit shop. It was delightfully crammed; frosted glass bottles filled with mysterious liquids lined hardwood shelves and bushels of various herbs and sages hung from racks. The cream colored walls added contrast and brightness to the otherwise stuffy and dark house. There were no lights in the room except for a few stray candles, and the rest was illuminated by a large square window that made home towards the corner of the right hand wall. The antique furniture radiated in the natural and yellow hues of the light, and the flowerpots were overfilled with ferns that draped around dark stained columns, and were so long that their ends barely graced the maroon Persian rug. Thick books were hastily thrown around different shelves and tables, many of which had a thick coating of dust. Cardamom, fresh ink, and the faint trace of smoke immediately wafted through Felix’s nose; home. 

The door closed firmly with another ring as a head perked up from behind the front counter and a familiar face greeted Felix. The man’s features were sharp and masculine, and honey colored eyes softened his appearance. He was far taller than Felix, standing over six feet, and his ginger colored hair effortlessly complemented the mahogany walls. He flashed Felix an overly-friendly smile, showing off his soft dimples. 

“Fe! Welcome back, how’d the mission go?” The redhead beamed. 

“Get back to work Sylvain,” Felix snapped, “now.”

Sylvain nodded and cleared his throat softly as he often did at Felix’s cold remarks, “would it kill you to lighten up?”

Felix did not try to answer. Instead, he began to wander towards the back door of the small room. He let his hands trace circles into the dusty counters he passed, closing books, and shifting trinkets back into their proper places, “Is there a meeting currently?”

Sylvain hesitated before resting his elbows casually over the wooden counter, “no, it’s just your dad and a few others right now.” 

In response, Felix stopped. He cleared his throat but said nothing. 

“I take it that it didn’t go well then?”

With a stiffening of his shoulders Felix turned around to glare at the redhead, “what would you know” 

Sylvain shifted forwards with a smirk, “I wouldn’t, that’s why I’m asking.”

Felix rolled his eyes and breathed a sarcastic sigh, “whose decision was it to leave you alone in the shop?”

Sylvain chuckled. The shop only had a few customers, and its purpose was mainly to house and provide support to the huntsmen. Felix was well aware of the fact, and was used to Sylvain being the only one of the upper floors. 

Sylvain's smirk softened and his voice calmed, “something else is on your mind.” 

“No,” Felix’s response was sharp. 

“I’ve known you for ages, you can’t lie to me,” Sylvain paused before continuing, “what’s wrong?”

Sylvain and Felix had been close since either of their earliest memories, taking comfort in the presence of one another. They two were vastly different as children but none-the-less inseparable through the ages. While their bond was complicated, the two cared for one another a tremendous amount. 

Felix conceded, rubbing his shoulder, “you know why.”

Sylvain nodded. “You scared?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s not everyday that you get to kill a werewolf.”

“I haven’t killed anything yet,”

“Fe, it’s in your blood,” Sylvain reassured, “I know you can.”

Inhaling deeply, Felix placed his hands on the counter that Sylvain had occupied with his elbows. Sylvain shifted and placed a warm palm on Felix’s shoulder. Felix never let anyone touch him, but he made many exceptions for the redhead. 

“Does anyone else know yet?” 

“Yeah, word gets around quickly here. There’s already been talk about a werewolf making Fhirdiad it’s new territory.”

Felix groaned as his shoulders slumped in defeat. His muscles relaxed, giving into the fact that there would be no way to hide this secret. Light shifted through the small windows in pinwheels of light, illuminating the dust that floated between the stressed man and his friend. It was silent, nothing but creeks of the wood and the heavy breathing of Felix. 

“Listen, I know it’s a touchy subject for you, but-”

“Sylvain.” Felix spoke. It was routine, when he did not want to hear what someone was about to say, he would stop them with their name. He had no intentions of following up afterwards, and there was no point to it farther than breaking his conversational opponent’s line of thought. 

“You gotta stop interrupting me,” Sylvain raised his voice before lowering it into a nurturing tone, “I know you, tell me. It’s about Glenn, isn’t it.”

Felix stood unmoved except for the faintest quiver of his tight lip. Felix took a small chip out of the wall Felix had surrounded himself by. 

“You don’t need to say it, but I know,” Sylvain reassured once more, “I know.”

Felix could not indulge in the momentary comfort of the room before feeling a sharp spark of anxiety electrocute him. He had remembered where he was and what he had to do. In his mind he had rehearsed, and in his room he would scribble on parchment with thick black ink the perfected script in which he would perform to his father. It was all calculated: sentence by sentence and inflections placed seamlessly. He looked up to meet the gaze of Sylvain before scoffing and walking across the creaky floorboard towards the back door of the room, illuminated by a small lantern. 

Felix opened the heavy door on the right in the back of the room, closing it behind him gently. In front of him was a steep set of old stairs leading downwards, well lit but candles holders placed symmetrically on the walls. He head faint murmurs from the basement, and paused before going any further. He took a deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled. He knew his father would not be upset with him, his father would probably be proud of him for having no casualties - yet, a lump still formed in his throat. The mission had not gone as planned, and the imperfections drove Felix wild. 

Stepping forwards, Felix was greeted by cold, dry air and the faintest scent of mildew. It wasn’t unpleasant, however. After a couple of steps the staircase twisted into a spiral, and the walnut steps were so worn that it took above average agility to descend without stumbling a couple of times. With falsely confident steps, Felix made his way down, each step emitting a loud creak. Around the corner, an older version of him awaited. 

“Felix!” he beamed, jumping up from the wooden desk in the center of an office room. The older man did not hug Felix at his return; rather, his demeanor appeared stifled and restrained. There was a force around Felix that might have well been a steel wall, impenetrable from affection.

“Hello Rodrigue,” Felix muttered in a monotone voice, lifting his nose up. 

“I heard you didn’t find much on your outing, and that you got caught in a storm,” Rodrigue began.

“Yes.” Felix snapped, before his father could finish. 

“It’s alright Felix” Rodrigue assured, “that happens more often than not.” 

Felix did not care for his father’s comforting words, they only seared into his flesh with the agony of failure. He should be better than others, he was better than others. “Sure,” his lips curled.

Felix felt othered since he was a child. He was small, far shorter than the others - he was not fast, not strong, and cried far beyond average. He did not make friends well, and the only ones he had were family friends through his father and brother. It was always because of his family, and never because of him. And even now, Felix resisted others. Somewhere along his childhood grew his urge to refuse support. Countless times those around him would extend a hand, and everyone would be automatically slapped away like clockwork. 

“Anyways, I wasn’t expecting to have you home so soon, so I haven’t prepared anything nice to eat,” Rodrigue beamed, returning to his desk and sifting through books once more. 

“I don’t care,” Felix huffed, his arms stiff and crossed in front of him.

“Oh Felix, don’t be that way,” Rodrigue pleaded, earning an exaggerated scoff in response. “And, your mission wasn’t a failure.” 

Felix’s head perked in attention before recoiling in an attempt to hide his curiosity, “because of?”

“Many of your huntsmen you lead have reported evidence of a werewolf, that’s big news!” Rodrigue’s pitch raised and tone shifted as though he was walking on thin ice.

“Why is that so good?” Felix snapped, easily detecting his father’s false excitement.

“That means, you will finally get your opportunity to drive them out of the forest, just as I once did.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Felix said. 

“We can send you after the next storm - we can get a full group of the best hunters that you can lead!” Rodrigue’s attempts at motivating Felix- while genuine- fell flat and lifeless in his son’s eyes. 

“Even though the six that just came back were injured?”

“Felix, they would protect you with their lives. Their injuries were small, nothing that requires medical attention - only rest,” his father assured. 

But it still bothered him. Felix sighed in an attempt to compose himself like an actor ready to go onto stage. The guilt haunted him, cutting fast and deep into his core. His slate could never be clean.

Rodrigue smiled, “I am excited for you, Felix, and you should be excited for yourself as well.”

Felix smiled back, but he knew that his father would not be fooled. His lips folded awkwardly, colliding into his unforgiving and reluctant cheeks in an attempt to stifle his discontent. He was stiff and cold. 

“Yes, dad,” Felix managed. 

“Well done Felix,” Rodrigue extended a warm hand that met Felix’s shoulder, “I wish I could give you a big welcome home, but I’m a bit busy for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll see you later this evening?”

Felix nodded, “yes.”

The two looked at each other for a couple of seconds, but not out of understanding; rather, of the inability to offer another word. Their interactions often ended in this manner; cold, awkward, and tense. Rarely did they share interactions of outward love with one another, and, when they did, they were short and brief. 

Once Rodrigue nodded back, Felix turned back towards the direction in which he came, and the second he ascended back upstairs his lips shifted back into their stiff morbid line. Felix refused to stop on the second floor, and rather, he hooked a sharp corner to go up a second flight of stairs. The third floor of his house was vastly different from the others: it was quiet, dusty, and still. The walls were lonely- lined with shut doors and a few scattered candle holders that made home on the old wooden panels that stretched down the hall. Though the dust coated wood was welcoming, though the long rug served as a fragment of warmth, and though the faint scent of wax and amber was pleasant; the house still made Felix shiver. 

Upon opening the far left door and entering his room, Felix fell back into his bed with a soft thud, letting his weight seep into the mattress. The space was filled with colors that he would never choose upon his own free will. They were bright and youthful - the walls were cream and the sheets were a cerulean that might have well been glowing. The water stained walls stood firm and were nothing but a ghostly silhouette of any sort of security. It is easy to say that Felix hated home, while his feelings were far more complex. He loved being home, and, in fact, he could vividly picture his childhood filled with joy and adventures throughout the building. There was once a time where Felix would happily rest in this exact spot, windows and door open, and laugh as his brother would yell from downstairs about something silly that Felix had done to the neighbors. 

On the hardwood desk sat an isolated and small framed portrait. The man in the image was older, probably by a couple of years, and wore a grin far brighter and longer than Felix’s; however, the similarity in his looks was striking. Felix’s older brother, Glenn, died when he was young. It was a werwolf hunting mission gone awry, far too ambitious and with too few supplies to make it through the wilderness with such a small pack. The news of his passing devastated not only his family but the entire network of towns alongside the forest as well. Felix’s eyes soon fluttered shut, his head heavy with grief, as he allowed himself to rest until the evening. 

The conversation at dinner that night was just as forced as the one earlier that day, and many days passed in the same tune as Felix prepared for the mission that was to come that weekend. It was still many days out, and Felix grew far too impatient. The guilt from the last mission still wounded him and his thoughts grew rushed - blurring into a flurry of fear. 

Felix attempted to organize his thoughts as best he could. He refused to hurt anyone else under his command. While minor injuries seemed small they could easily become casualties if Felix were to grow sloppy in his leadership. He decided upon the best option he had available: sneaking out and taking matters into his own hands. This time, alone. 


	3. Waning Gibbous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter: violence & blood

The snow came, just as Felix had feared. Fhirdiad’s lights were dim as candles around town were slowly burnt out as Felix stood by the front door of the shop. Venturing out alone in the woods was risky, but he would rather be alone than put multiple lives at stake in the treacherous weather. The evidence was there; tracks, fur, and reduced wildlife - all Felix had to do now was venture out and secure his destiny. He slung a pack over his shoulder with a soft grunt- it was filled only with the necessities to survive the blizzard. He remembered to bring his journal which was securely fastened into the interior of his winter coat. No one would follow him, and he could be back by the next afternoon if all went according to plan.

“What are you doing?” A voice called out and Felix jumped. 

“Who's there,” Felix warned, instinctually grabbing for the knife secured at his belt. 

“Hey, hey - it’s just me,” Sylvain chuckled with a tinge of concern as he stepped out from behind one of the taller shelves. Felix glared for a second and then promptly continued preparations to leave, leaving Sylvain with a cold shoulder. 

“I’ll ask again, what are you doing?” Sylvain said once more as he took a step closer. Felix once again refused to reply, ignoring Sylvain entirely. Sylvain sighed, “you don’t have to answer me, I already know.”

“That seems to be a trend now, doesn’t it,” Felix jabbed playfully, “you already know everything.”

“Yeah, because I get you, we all get you Fe. Me, your dad, even the other commanders: we grew up with you.” 

Felix grimaced at the thought of being known- of being cared for. It burned his flesh with a fire that consumed him. 

“But what I don’t get is why now?” Sylvain began speaking again, “the first reports just came in with your last mission, you have time.”

“No, I don’t,” Felix frowned. 

“Fine, you won’t change your mind. Go.”

Felix stood in the doorway, deep brown eyes piercing through the dark of the outside world. It was going to be bitter, cold, and sharp. Teeth clenched and eyes now shut, Felix braced himself for the relentless wind to bite him. As soon as his fingers graced the frigid metal handle on the door, he huffed and turned around to meet the gaze of Sylvain. When two people know each other for long enough they develop an unspoken language with a precision that words cannot capture or express. 

“I know what this is all about you know,” Sylvain rolled his eyes, “it’s your brother, your inferiority complex, and your burning need to hide the fact that you actually care about us.”

Felix flinched. Sylvain had softened the blow by describing the other shortcomings of Felix’s behavior, but the memory of his brother stung his heart with a deepness that immobilized him.

“You could wait for the storm to be over, to have reinforcements. But you don’t want to drag other people into this. You don’t want to have any blood on your hands, that’s it.”

Felix remained still - unmoved and rigid. Sylvain spoke slowly and softly, like tea and honey. He had a way of bringing joy and cheekiness into anything he muttered, even if they were the darkest parts of someone else. Still, skin coated in goosebumps and hairs on end, Felix’s mind drifted elsewhere. He wanted nothing more than for the redhead to stop spewing what Felix already knew, it only hurt more. His ears rang, forcing Sylvain’s words away, forcing the mortifying ideal of processing any emotional connection with another human being. 

“You’re terrified of death, but not of your own.”

After Sylvain finished rambling, Felix’s muscles softened and his mouth opened for a slow exhale. The warmth of the room refilled his senses and he came back down to the ground.

“And you’re a jackass,” Sylvain chuckled in an attempt to ease the tension. 

“I'm going,” Felix spoke sharply with the softest inflection. Sylvain had gotten to him, and he was poor at hiding it. 

“Okay, you don’t. Just, be careful. Please. You have people here who love you,” Sylvain reassured, uncertain if anything else he said could possibly reach the shorter man. 

Felix sighed and placed his palm on the door handle once more. Breathing in sharply, he ventured into the unknown. 

* * *

The snow became so thick that Felix’s eyes fought to stay open. A new layer of white coated the ground each minute, as Felix struggled to find any tracks and he could only hope to revisit where the prior reports led to and pray. There was no way to tell which direction to go as the familiar forest became a stranger to him. But, nonetheless, Felix’s determination burnt through the storm. While each step he took was towards an unknown future, it was still progress into a direction that was different then where he began. For the first time, Felix was drenched in passion and emotion; he was going to change things, here and now. He was in control. 

Felix went on for hours. He hiked, climbed, and trekked his way through treacherous conditions and environments. He was sure nothing could survive out in the open of this storm, so, if there was a werewolf, it would have to come to him if it was hungry. Felix had planned it all out step by step. He knew what he was going to do, to say; he would reach his gloved hand behind his back to grab his crossbow and fire a single bolt to the heart, killing the beast on impact. He would leave the carcass there to collect the next day once it was safe - bringing honor and glory to himself. 

However, with each step he realized how foolish that plan was. Trees all began to look the same and the stars were coated in a thick layer of clouds and white. His compass was frozen over, pin stuck in place and glass fogged. He was undeniably lost, cold, and his mind went numb, and he wondered if Sylvain was right, and he truly did not fear death. He certainly did not at this moment, at least. 

Hours become minutes as Felix mumbled to himself, running in circles, “where  _ are _ you?”

**T** hat was when he heard it. It wasn’t a howl, but more of a cry. If he hadn’t seen what came out from behind a tree, he would have assumed a small doe had gotten caught out in the storm and was bleating for help. It was almost pitiful. Felix couldn’t quite make out who or what it was, all he could see through the thick snow and coated trees was a large shadow. Taking out a crossbow, he approached the creature.

It started moving, slowly, and did not seem to notice Felix. Muffled by the snow, Felix pressed his body to a thick evergreen with low branches. The shadow was large, like a bear, but was more pointed and agile. Felix peered from his hiding place and squinted as he began to make out more of the details. It was clearly non-human due to the sheer size, Felix thought. He looked up into the tree, and began to climb to a perch that stood 12ft above the surface of the packed snow. 

At the snap of a small branch in the tree, the shadow whipped around and stepped forwards. It was now about 20 years off from Felix, and gaining ground inquisitively. After a moment’s silence that felt as though it was an eternity, the creature arched its back before lifting its shoulders and leaning back, arms bent and legs stretched, and let out a long and deep howl.

Felix was unguarded - he wore nothing more than his coat and a few small weapons - but, he was also face to face with his emotions. Everything rose up in him - his anger, his inferiority, his love. After tonight he would be done. No more anxiety, no more doubts. He was ready to kill a werewolf. Felix shot an arrow with a snap - missed. The beast’s attention peaked, Felix had lost his advantage of surprise, but he still had the high ground. 

Another shot, and another miss. 

“Shit,” Felix grunted, impatience wavering in his voice. 

On the third shot, the werewolf turned around and met Felix’s gaze. A single blue orb glowed through the night’s darkness followed by a haunting silence. Felix reloaded his crossbow and fired once again. The fourth shot made contact and grazed the werewolf’s side, causing the creature to stumble with a yelp. Now that the beast was prone, Felix jumped from the tree and landed with a thud. The lower branches created a jagged gash in his right thigh, but Felix failed to notice through his heightened adrenaline. Like leaping off of a cliff, he had no idea what he was happening, but his body rushed forwards through the snow -dagger in hand- like it was instinct. He held the small close by his side, grunting and yelling, before raising it above his head and lunging forwards. Gripping its sturdy wooden handle as though his life depended on it, he slipped the straight steel blade through the flesh of the werewolf’s shoulder.

Felix’s eyes were open and flared with rage as he embedded the weapon deeper with a gruesome twist. He gripped so tightly that his knuckles turned white under his gloves, and he could begin to feel the warmth of the blood that surged out of the wound. 

The piercing shriek of the best echoed loudly throughout the forest as the beast pushed him off.

Felix fell back onto the snow topped rocks with a pained grunt, and he braced himself for an attack. But none came; rather, the beast growled in agony and remained on the defensive. Felix pushed his sore and shaking body up and began to run once again with a raspy yell. 

“You’re going to die!” Felix bellowed, “right here!” 

_ Stop. _

Felix swore he heard a whisper. Pained, weak, and pathetic - as though someone was lost and begging him for help. Taking Felix aback, the beast let out a hollow howl before gripping the shoulder that was coated in a deep crimson with its clawed paw. Felix hesitated, but by then the beast took off. 

Felix groaned to himself, his doubt led him to failure and he was certain that he would never have the opportunity as easy as this again. Steam rose off of his weakened and battle worn frame, but it was too quickly blown by the snow and wind for Felix to notice. He closed his lips tightly and lifted his chin up towards the sky, letting the blizzard fall onto his face. From this position, the snow easily and quickly blinded him, but for a glimpse of a second, through the thick veil white, he saw the pale light of the full moon.

Looking down again and wiping his eyes, Felix surveyed the scene once more. The once pristine layer of snow was now muddied with footprints, fallen branches, fur, and blood. If someone were to stumble upon this area of the woods tomorrow, assuming the snow did not consume the evidence, they would have assumed Felix had been the prey. Felix sighed, looking at the pools and splatters of crimson that once flowed through the warm veins of the best now melt into the snow. He wondered what he should do now - he was still lost, now injured, and without shelter. He had only made things worse for himself by attacking the werewolf and he now faced the dire consequences of his impulsivity. 

He wondered what the beast would do now too. It was brutally injured and its best option would be to find a quiet place to freeze or bleed out: whichever came first. Felix was sure that it knew that well, and had run out of hope just like him. He glanced over the trail of blood that led towards a heavily wooded section of the forest - dark, thick, and difficult to navigate. The beast could not have gotten far, and, out of options, Felix figured that tracking it would be better than freezing. If there was any safe shelter in this blizzard, the werewolf might have known the way to it. 

Felix followed the trail of blood as though it were a beacon calling for him; it was the only color other than the white and black that plagued the forest. The splatters were close together, probably because the werewolf was moving slowly and that the wound was so deep that the blood flow was heavy, so tracking was easy. The tips of Felix’s fingers grew numb as he journeyed farther into the thick grove of pine trees and bushes, stumbling every so often over stray roots and rocks. The trail grew thinner as snow began to cover the warm crimson liquid and Felix’s pace began to quicken. 

Eventually Felix reached the end of the never ending chase. The beast’s footprints grew sloppy with the occasional indent from tripping, probably due to dizziness caused by the blood loss, and they led into a lonesome and eerie cave. Felix should have turned back and found his own safety for the night far away from an angry monster; however, he found himself drawn to this cavern. And so, he cautiously stepped forwards into his fate. 


	4. Full Moon

Once inside, the snow from the unforgiving storm had lost reach of Felix. He was too far from Fhirdiad to run away back to the safety of home now - and, even if he could, he was brutally lost without his compass, landmarks, or the stars. Moonlight barely reached the darkest crevices of the cave; but, there remained enough of the pale silvery blue light to illuminate the silhouettes of the moss-coated rocks that littered the ground. Felix wandered slowly, on guard and with his knife at the ready, prepared for a second fight. However, as Felix’s eyes began to adjust to the low light, he was greeted by a sight he would never forget. 

Corned in the back of the cave huddled an exhausted man with his face closed in a grimace and hair that was matted from the snow. His body was laced with scars and blood which slid down his left arm and stained his tattered clothes. While he was clearly humanoid, coarse fur grew from his forearms and his ears were pointed sharply. It was when Felix managed to come close enough that he noticed that the man’s breathing was heavy and labored. The beast pressed a calloused hand against his wound that steamed in the icy wind, and his shoulder twitched in torment from the cut. The pain shot up fast and paralyzed his body; consuming him without limit and with a rawness that inflicted incurable guilt. Felix had done this.

Every ounce of Felix wished that he had the courage to reach over and say that could help, but the beast would not have believed him. It was selfish, the desire to mend this man when he was the one to inflict such anguish. Akin to the night’s relentless storm, Felix’s insides were a mess. Something ached inside of him and it all felt so wrong, and when he tried to reason the cause of his pain he became disoriented. For so long Felix had been drowning in his own uncried tears; but, he was not prepared to watch someone die again. They were both suffering the same agony, and, unable to bear it any longer, Felix stepped forwards. 

The beast let out a low growl. It was strenuous and charged with fear, but it also solemnly pleaded for a savior. After a moment of hearing nothing but the icy rain echoing from outside the cavern, Felix knelt down in front of the man and extended a cold hand. Escaping from his lips as if it never knew how to stay, Felix whispered, “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You already have,” the man groaned. His voice was low and smooth, filling every corner of the cave with deep echoes. 

Felix’s throat choked with guilt.  _ Leave. Go far away from this forest.  _ He almost said it. Instead, Felix inched closer, closer. So close that he could touch him. 

“You’re the werewolf,” he murmured, staring at the man in front of him. 

With one blue eye glossed over and glowing and the other closed in a deep scar, he looked up at Felix, and then back down again, “go.”

“But, you- you’re human,” Felix once more extended a hand, which earned him a threatening growl and a flash of fangs.

“I said go,” his face was stiff.

Felix huffed, “if I left then you would bleed to death.”

“Without you I wouldn’t be bleeding,” the beast grabbed its shoulder in pain. The large man turned, and Felix’s jaw tightened. Felix was angry, but for some inexplicable reason he felt no fear. Maybe it was because of the man’s beautiful face that was framed by the gold in his hair, or maybe it was because of how vulnerable he was. He was a werewolf, and could tear Felix into shreds if he so desired. 

“Well, you’re stuck with me. That storm is too strong for me to go anywhere,” Felix huffed, “trust me, I want to be far away from you as well.”

“Why don’t you just kill me,” his hand balled into a fist, “it’s what you came here to do.”

Felix glared down at him, dry mouthed. “I came here to kill a wolf, not a man.” Without waiting for a response, Felix removed his backpack. He carried a small flask of water, some dried fruit, salve, and flint. “Do you have any Wood?”

The injured man gestured across the cave at a heap of twigs, branches, and moss. After Felix had collected them, he created an improvised fire. Striking the flint against his steel knife he asked, with a softness that he never imagined himself capable of, “do you have a name?”

“Dimitri,” he admitted, “and, once you’re done here…” he paused. 

“Felix.”

“Yes, Felix - leave. Immediately.”

There was a long silence that followed. Felix shivered next to the new fire as warmth began to flow back into his skin as he attempted to avoid eye contact with Dimitri. But, Felix felt Dimitri’s silent gaze from the other side of the glowing ember. Felix did not know what he was expected to say, and wondered if Dimitri was waiting upon him to initiate a conversation. Felix could not help but wonder if Dimitri had a life outside of this; a family, or a brother. 

“Would you let me help you now?” Felix broke the silence. 

“Don’t you dare touch me,” Dimitri growled.

“Very well,” Felix shrugged, “bleed out.” This gained a confused look from Dimitri, and Felix continued, “if you die, I get to bring home the news that I killed a werewolf. Helping you would be a loss to me.”

Dimitri looked over in confusion. “If you die, I get to bring home the news that I killed a werewolf,” Felix’s voice was sharp, “helping you would be a loss to me.” 

“Do whatever you want,” Dimitri said, eyes lacking any intensity. 

Felix nodded, and went back into his belongings. 

“I said to do whatever you want,” Dimitri yelled, “kill me!”

Felix’s voice was sharp, “you told me to do what I want and what I want to do is help you.” He removed his furred leather jacket and ripped at his innermost layer. With an annoyed sigh, Felix peeled away a messy strip of black cotton. 

“You’re a human, you’ll get cold.”

“Shut up,” Felix snapped. While he directed this jab towards Dimitri, there was an ounce of self depreciation as he mentally kicked himself. Why was he being so nice to a werewolf? He wasn’t nice to anyone, let alone a monster, and every fiber of his being was begging himself to have the strength to turn away and leave Dimitri to die. 

Dimitri’s breath hitched as another wave of pain struck him. His hand shot up to grip at his left shoulder once more. Felix made his way around the fire with his cloth, water, and salve, approaching Dimitri’s side of the cave once more, “are you sure you don’t want help?”

Through gritted teeth, Dimitri muttered, “if I said that I didn’t you would still help anyways, wouldn’t you.”

Felix raised an eyebrow, “the question was do you want help.”

After a pause, Dimitri’s complexion softened, “yes.”

The two made eye contact as Felix raised a cautious hand towards the wound. He hesitated once his hand was just a few inches away. He could feel the warmth radiating from the cut, and from this proximity just how deep it truly was, “this might hurt, bear it.” Felix ordered.

Dimitri’s mouth wavered as he attempted to control a deep snarl as Felix’s hand rested upon his shoulder. Felix lifted his canteen and gently washed out the gash, watching as the thick crimson liquid began to momentarily flow at a heavier rate. Dimitri’s shoulder twisted, and he lifted his other arm to clutch his elbow, forcing himself into place. Both of them were silent. Felix had just thrown words at him like daggers, grasping for any attempt to wound him further. Felix knew it was from self-reproach - he could not apologize, he couldn’t show anything other than animosity. 

Felix opened and scooped a dab of salve from a metal canister onto his now gloveless finger and he rubbed the chill balm into a paste. The sharp but relaxing scent of tea tree, cedar, and beeswax coated his palms as he gently placed them onto Dimitri’s wound. Felix massaged it into the larger man’s skin as their eye contact remained unbroken. Brows furrowed and jaws clenched the two refused to look away. They both needed this, Dimitri was in indescribable pain and Felix’s burning desire to repair his guilt resulted in their mutual animosity which flared between their gaze Felix then wrapped Dimitri’s shoulder firmly, pulling on the tattered cloth from his shirt with a ruthless tug. Dimitri grunted and closed his eyes. 

“I’m staying here for the night. I need to make sure you are okay - plus the storm hasn’t let up,” Felix said. 

“Fuck you,” Dimitri hissed in response. 

The moonlight shifted, and through the cavities of the rocks overhead Felix could see the pale iridescence of the moon cast a soft light across Dimitri’s features. There was a time in Felix’s life in which he believed that if he were to kill a beast that his emotions would melt away. The problem was that every ounce of purpose in him had degraded over the years into a dullness that left him unemotional and distance. The disparity between his free-will and his pre-determined fate had clashed for so long that it finally bottled up to a breaking point that he had yet to process.  _ Why now did this stranger make him feel so different?  _

“I’m sorry, Dimitri.” The name felt strange coming off of his lips. It was the first time he had said it, and addressing the man he had attempted to kill by first name felt foriegn. 

“Why,” Dimitri questioned, his demeanor indifferent and stiff.

“Because I am truly,” Felix gulped, “truly sorry.”

The awkward silences between the two had become painfully familiar; a routine that grew into a mutual comfort. Neither could capture the words to express their emotions to one another, and, even if they could, the idea of confiding in a stranger was something neither could fathom. Felix no longer had the will to confront his emotions, and so he left Dimitri with a firm rub to the makeshift bandage.

Felix strode back towards the other side of the fire as he realized just how deeply he had been wounded from jumping out of the tree. He was once again reminded of Sylvain’s snarky way of telling him that he cared more about others than himself, even if he refused to show it. The corner of his mouth cocked delicately into the faintest smile before he stifled a grunt from the pain and organized his belongings. And, from the far side of the cave- as far away as he could rest- Felix drifted to sleep. 

* * *

A pained groan woke him up. Felix stirred as sun filtered through the cracks and faint entrance of the cave, and his eyes met with Dimitri’s. Unlike last night, Dimitri was less rugged. His teeth were dulled, his skin seemed softer, and his ears no longer wore fur and points. His clothes seemed looser and were coated in dried blood. His face bore the same pain that Felix saw the night before, and the bags under his eyes led Felix to believe that the man did not sleep well. 

Felix lay for a minute pretending to still be asleep; but, from thoroughly squinted eyes, he watched Dimitri. He had just slept in a cave in the blistering cold - completely unguarded - with a complete stranger who was extraordinarily mad at him. Their conversation last night was ridden with hostility and friction, and both were quite literally itching to kill one another. 

No sounds crept in from outside the cave, and Felix could tell from the brightness that leaked into the cave that the storm had quelled and left a thick blanket of snow behind. Felix shifted, skin scraping against the cracked rock and damp moss. He hated every moment of this. 

If he were to have never left on this mission he could have lived a life of avoiding his future. Sure, he would have doubted himself and felt inferior to his expectations - but he would not be in this situation and would not be having this moral dilemma. What he was told about werewolves - what he was taught - crumbled in front of him. How many other lies had he been told? 

Dimitri was now fully awake and staring coolly towards Felix. If a glare could kill, Felix was certain that Dimitri’s was extraordinarily deadly. It was funny - the way in which the two were so prone. Each was exposed, vulnerable, yet neither took the opportunity to end the other that night.

“I know you’re awake, Felix.”

Felix’s muscles tensed. He was as transparent as glass to Dimitri who was easily able to read his mannerisms. 

“Guilty,” he mumbled. Felix remained on his side, sore and deathly tired. The two simply could not keep a steady conversation, but, that was not unexpected as they were forced into the same cavern after attempting to kill one another. 

“Let me clean it again before I leave,” Felix demanded, eyes closed and unmoved - safe from the possibility of meeting Dimitri's gaze.

“No,” Dimitri growled.

“Get an infection and die, you seem to have a wish for that.” 

Dimitri’s gaze shifted down. Finally free from its grip, Felix softly muttered, “please let me clean it.”

Dimitri nodded and Felix pushed himself into a kneeling position. He repeated the same routine as the night before: salve, bandages, and a stern stare off. 

“It truly is quite deep and nasty,” Felix sighed, “are you sure you will be fine after I leave?”

“Well, you must be good at what you do,” Dimitri snapped sarcastically, face darting forward. 

Felix recoiled, “you didn’t answer what I asked, stop playing games.” 

“Answer me first: Why did you stay?”

Felix paused. He did not know if he should ignore the question, play it off in a way that maintained his aloof composure. He opted towards breaking down his walls, but only momentarily. “Because I’m always responsible for those who fall injured under me, always.”

“It would have been easier on you to let me die,” Dimitri softened. 

“I guess my compassion and expectations were having a knife fight, and by some strange miracle my morality won,” Felix rolled his eyes.

Dimitri chuckled. It was light and airy, and while it was soft it radiated a certain sunlight and smoothness. It sounded as though he had not laughed in a long time. Felix smiled. 

“I’ll be back with supplies,” Felix quickly stood up, realizing he had let his guard down for too long. He momentarily struggled, but remained his composure. 

“Your leg, it’s bad too.”

“It’s not that deep, just a scratch from when I fell out of the tree,” Felix gritted his teeth as he slowly put pressure on his newly injured leg, “where should I meet you when I am back?”

“I don’t need some sort of savior. Just leave - we can part ways and both focus on healing ourselves,” Dimitri grumbled.

“I’m offering to help you, idiot,” Felix groaned sarcastically, “let’s plan to meet here in one week- any special requests?”

“Don’t come back.”

“I was thinking along the lines of something nice, like tea, but you lost your chance,” Felix rolled his eyes and tossed Dimitri a fistfull of bandages before turning around, “make sure to take care of yourself until I’m back.”

Felix walked with a speed that rivaled a sprint, moving as fast as possible to gain as much distance as he could from that hellish man. He wanted to be home, he wanted to forget. As he made way towards the opening of the cave, he regretted everything about his choices in the past 24 hours. 


	5. Retreat

Felix poked his nose outside of the cave and a harsh glare of sunlight took him aback. He had hurled up deep in the cave all night, and even though some of the beams found themselves filtering through the cracked rock, he had forgotten what the sun felt like as it reflected off the snow. The air was crisp and the breeze was calm, and the forest was illuminated by the pale winter sun. Despite how violent the night’s storm was, there was a softness and steadiness to the land. 

He worried about leaving Dimitri alone. Would Dimitri attempt to run away and freeze somewhere? Or, would Dimitri be attacked by any other monsters? He was practically a sitting duck. Felix shook his head to avoid thinking further about the safety of his new enemy, and his mind shifted focus to the amount of trouble he would be in when he returned home. Frankly, Felix had no clue of how he was going to explain himself. He crafted the kineving lies in his head; he was out on a patrol walk when he saw the beast and chased it into the woods, or, he heard a child scream and rushed in to kill the werewolf. But, both of those required the one piece of evidence Felix lacked: proof that the werewolf was dead. He could tell the truth, he thought. But, just as fast as that idea conjured in his head it had vanished. 

Frosted air forced its way into Felix’s lungs as he journeyed home, guided by his now working compass. His laboured breathing created balls of clouds as they passed his chapped and blue lips. It took a couple of hours with a few stops along the way for Felix to rest his injuries, however, he eventually found his way back in Fhirdiad. 

The town was the same as ever- innocently busy and unaware of the monster that lurked beyond the treeline. He approached his house with caution- he was certain his absence had not gone unnoticed, and it was foolish to think he would have gotten away with it in the first place. Felix inhaled sharply before reaching out to the front handle to let himself inside. 

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius,” a familiarly stern voice commanded as the front door shot open, “you get right over here this instant young man.”

There it was, that feeling of desperation- of calculating what he was going to say: “yes.”

“Where have you been?” His father's voice rang sharply throughout the main room. 

“Relax, I was out for one night,” Felix’s voice was deep, cold, and monotone. 

Rodrigue stuttered in response and worry painted his tense face, “when I woke up and saw your coat and pack gone - I -”

“Well I’m back now and I’m alive so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Rodrigue would have walked through hell to keep Felix safe and loved Felix with all the strength he possessed. He was angry, a fire burnt the volatile kindling that was his heart. All he could manage was the slow extension of his arm that found its way around his son, bringing Felix close to his body before wrapping the other around him. 

Rodrigue’s voice softened , “why did you go without telling anyone? And in the middle of a blizzard too?” 

“I told Sylvain,” Felix whispered tentatively in response. 

“Felix, will you promise me that the next time you venture off, you do it during clear weather and with at least a small squadron?”

Felix nodded, body rigid. Rodrgiue was always the type of fun father who spun Felix around in his arms until they were both dizzy - and yet, Felix never grew accustomed to physical displays of affection. 

“This weekend,” he sighed, “I won't be as reckless.”

“Thank you,” Rodrigue mumbled before letting go of his son and opening the door. Luckily there were not many visitors inside, and the two were able to slip downstairs inconspicuously. 

“We don’t need to prepare,” Felix huffed as they descended the stairwell to find a quiet place to discuss, “I told you, I saw the werewolf and wounded it. This will only be a mission to check the surrounding area.” 

“Yes but I worry about you Felix, please, take some time to rest,” his father urged once they reached the meeting room in their basement. It was empty, the chairs were stored away and the hardwood floor was hauntingly bare. 

“Fine,” Felix agreed, “but we have no time to waste, we need to call meetings now and prepare a group quickly.”

“I’ll organize tomorrow, for now please rest. You seem injured and overwhelmed,” Rodrigue sighed, “I know you are excited to kill a werewolf, but remember to take time for you.”

Felix nodded, “alright, alright. Fine." With one last smile and nod, Felix went back up the stairs towards his room to rest. 

Despite the trouble Felix met at his arrival, the week proceeded as normal: he attended strategy meetings, collected resources, and organized for his next assignment. He took heavy notes in his journal as he recalled the weekend prior - he sketched the werewolf’s long and slender teeth, pointed ears, bloody limbs, and matted fur as accurately as he could. Felix was known for acting with precision, and his sketches were no exception. He wrote down what medicines he gave to Dimitri, and which ones he planned to bring on his next visit. Felix was never one to be unprepared. 

Felix paid many visits to the family library that week. The old oak shelves held generation’s worth of research, records, and logs of all the knowledge that the Fraldarius’ had acquired. While some books were often used by commanders, many were still left coated in a thick layer of dust and grime, untouched by hunters for decades. Felix thumbed through the bindings on a high shelf in search of any information on werewolves, and in character to his family, they had collected a large sampling of research.

Flipping through the pages of each book, Felix learned little to nothing that he had not already been taught. Any new information was contradictory to each other and had little scientific backing, but Felix scratched it into his journal nonetheless. Any possible answers he could find had the potential to lead him to solutions so that he could avoid killing. 

He was instructed to treat this next outing as a simple scouting mission - meaning, low weaponry, mapping materials, and travel packs. He was to take intake on the wilderness and formulate strategies for their next moves, however, it was also the perfect opportunity to wander unsuspiciously from the group and into a specific cavern.

His orders were simple: do not engage in combat. 

The journey was met without trouble. The group was composed of three experienced huntsmen and a handful of trainees as the conditions were perfect for inexperienced members. Golden rays delicately penetrated through the clouds and formed sparkling glimmers off of the powdery snow as they traveled miles on horseback in little time, only stopping for occasional breaks and regrouping. Felix had described what he had seen falsifying detail; the werewolf had jumped him in a valley pass between two mountains and eventually took cover in the far tree-line. Felix was a convincing liar as his cold shell of an exterior was always impossible to read, and his many years of experience paid off. 

Felix shouted the order and the group broke up into small pods. He insisted that he go alone as he “knew the area well,” and, as a safety net, a warning holler could be heard for miles across the valley. Felix had pre-calculated every objection or caveat to his plan, and all of the pieces fell into place smoothly. Felix separated from the group effortlessly. He had no sense of direction in the storm; however, on his way back, he carefully remembered his steps in preparation to retrace him. He knew that Dimitri despised him, rightfully so, but Felix’s determination seared through the wills and desires of those around him - when he set his mind to something, it was as good as done.

Now alone, he retraced his steps through the overgrown forest and fauna. Winding paths and cracked stones led the way back towards the mysterious sanctuary with the mysterious man. Dimitri was defiant, just as Felix was; but, the werewolf was filled with a more solemn longing and sweetness that Felix lacked in comparison. Felix’s thoughts were heavy as he tracked through the thick brush, making headway into the forest. 

Now that he was in the daylight, Felix could fully observe the cave that he took shelter in during that night. The stones that lined the mouth of blackness were old, crumbled, and lined in a thick layer of muddy snow. The sound of dripping water from the run off echoed off of the small pebbles that were scattered across the ground, and Felix marveled in the serenity of the rocky formation in front of him.

When Felix entered the dark cavern he was greeted with a soft oaky scent. The wafts of mildew and dirt only strengthened by the humidity reminded him of his basement where the hunters often met. Felix was light on his feet and nimble, yet even he struggled to keep his footsteps from ringing into the deepest corners of the rock formation. He was certain that Dimitri could hear his approach, _ or _ , he wondered, if Dimitri could smell him as well. The cave did not hold many smaller alleys or passages and Felix was easily able to retrace his steps back to where he had first met Dimitri. When he finally arrived by their meeting spot, Felix was surprised to see that the cavern was no longer empty; it bore an assortment of pelts, food, scrolls, and simple things such as pots and pans. Felix had assumed, being a beast, that Dimitri resided in the woods on bare necessities alone, hunting his prey and struggling for life- this, however, appeared to be more of a makeshift cottage. 

Felix did not see Dimitri at first - rather, he tentatively investigated the small space. He poked and prodded the pelts that were stacked in a formation that resembled a bed, and he examined the freshly cleaned pans that were sitting by the fire to dry. 

“Can I help you?” A familiar growl emanated from the shadows.

Felix’s back shifted tensely in surprise as he cleared his throat, “hello to you too, Dimitri.” Felix turned to face Dimitri who was a couple yards off, astonished at the fact he had missed him upon his first glance through the room.

“Why are you here?” Dimitri questioned.

“I came back because I felt responsible for you,” Felix admitted easily.

“I’m not a child,” Dimitri responded with a low monotone voice. 

“No, but I hurt you,” Felix said, “so I owe you this.”

Dimitri paused and squinted in response. He stood tall above Felix, and his brows were furrowed as he looked down inquisitively, “and, just you?”

Felix hesitated. “Yes, just me,” he lied.

Dimitri sighed, shoulders visibly relaxing as he slouched, “I’ve been in so much pain.”

“I already apologized.”

“I’m not asking for an apology, I'm asking for help,” Dimitri groaned.

Felix sat Dimitri down, back resting upon the smooth rock, before he opened his traveling pack and pulled out more medicine. He carried satchels and vials of assorted powders, roots, and lotions: turmeric, aloe, honey, and limestone powder - among many other concoctions. Felix sat down and his fingers settled upon cloth that had found its way messily wrapped around Dimitri’s shoulder and torso. It was loose, and probably did not aid in much other than keeping debris and bacteria out.

“You’ve been changing the bandage - good,” Felix hummed, “but no wonder why you are in so much pain, you didn’t apply these very correctly…”

“No, I think I’m in pain because you stabbed me.”

“Noted,” Felix hissed. 

Once finally removed, Felix could tell that Dimitri had made great progress in healing. To no surprise the skin was bruised and tender around the wound that was now coated in a gnarly and crooked scab. It had been far deep enough to see bone, however, there were no signs of infection- which Felix considered to be a blessing. After opening the canisters and mixing the herbs into some beeswax using the heat of his palms, Felix applied the medicine to Dimitri’s shoulder and the surrounding area. 

Felix’s brows softened and his cheeks relaxed, “I know you don’t want me back, but you do need the help.”

Dimitri nodded, “I do.”

“Have you been good on food? Supplies?” Felix asked, overly concerned with Dimitri’s wellbeing. 

Dimitri’s answer was short again, “yes.”

Felix frowned. Normally, he jumped at the chance to end a conversation early and flee to the safety of being alone. This time, however, he felt almost drawn to Dimitri. The only thing that could overpower his anger was guilt, and he knew that this had blinded him into a state of caring for others. He was not sure if he was thankful for it or if he despised it, but at least he found a way to feel any hint of an emotion outside of hatred. That is what drew him back towards Dimitri, at least. 

“You’re welcome to stay longer,” Dimitri offered, much to his own distaste. 

Before thinking, Felix responded in a genuine manner, “thank you.” He stood up and turned towards the stack of pots Dimitri had messily stacked and took one off the top of the pile before asking, “water,” he demanded. 

Dimitri tilted his head to the left towards a larger pot that was half full with water that he collected from a stream earlier that morning, “get it yourself.”

After a quick and exaggerated roll of his eyes, Felix huffed as he filled the smaller container with water and placed it upon the sticks that Dimitri had earlier set up over the fire. Felix threw more of the herbs he brought into the water, boiling it to make an aromatic ginger tea. He hummed to himself for a minute, not wanting to initiate conversation, and proceeded to grab the small metal cups from the cluttered pile of Dimitri’s kitchenware. After pouring two cups he extended his arm, and stated “tea,” rather than asking. 

Dimitri took the offer without speaking, and Felix sat down at a safe yard away from him. At this point, their awkward silences were not new and both of them grew brutally accustomed towards their shared tension, so this moment of unpleasantness was normal. Before Felix knew it, he was staring at the bottom of his cup at the leaves that stuck to the bottom. 

“What are we going to do?”

Dimitri’s head perked at Felix’s broad question. It was overly vague, and yet, Dimitri knew exactly what he was asking, “about?”

“About this!” Felix yelled, “Dimitri, you aren’t a monster - but my troops aren’t going to stop hunting you down.”

“Tell them to stop,” his voice was deep. 

“I - I can’t! Don’t you get it?” Felix stuttered with a raised and strained voice. 

“I don’t get it, they are your troops aren’t they?” Dimitri’s voice emanated with a genuine confusion and his speech was low and unwavering. 

“Argh- Dimitri you…” Felix began muttering to himself, fingers now twisted through his hair and his hands at his scalp. 

“I can fend for myself, I’ve lived pretty easily up until you,” Dimitri coolly reassured.

“That’s not the fucking point! It’s-” Felix paused before his voice cracked, “it’s not fair.”

Dimitri’s head lifted slowly and he no longer wore a puzzled complexion, “to me, or to you?”

Felix remained silent. Dimitri was unmistakingly correct in asking this question - even though he was the one that was hurt, Felix was the one that stood before him, pleading and demanding for action. Felix provided care to Dimitri for his own sake; he needed closure to cure his guilt. 

“I should leave for now,” Felix said, “clear my head - think.” 

Dimitri nodded, “that might be best, for both of us.”

Felix’s face relaxed - his lips were no longer pressed tightly together and his brows relaxed, “I’ll be back later tonight - and, if you’re willing, we should talk.”  Before waiting for an objection, Felix promptly grabbed his bag, shifted his shoulders away from Dimitri, and pointed his chin up. He scowled at the disheveled man that sat on the floor in a cloud of his own melancholy.  _ ‘What a sad life to live’  _ he thought condescendingly before he marched himself out of the cave with a stubbornness ss that rivaled a boulder . 


	6. Reprise

Felix rejoined the group seamlessly. He was sure that no one had caught onto his ulterior plans, and was greeted with simple hellos and nods of acknowledgement. The day plated out as though it was a brutal routine: he avoided all casual conversation and instead opted towards strategy and leadership commands only.

Nighttime fell and all hunters had gathered into their own tents; each one eating, reading, or chatting until slowly all their lanterns began to fade out. Felix awaited alone in his own as the rustling unhurriedly turned to silence. He had enough time alone to have some space and clear his head, and he wanted to go back to Dimitri with a plan and purpose - to be able to obtain the faintest hint of closure and work out a solution. If Dimitri was to stay in the area he would undoubtedly be hunted to death. Once Felix was certain that no one was left awake, he tugged on the leather straps of his pack and peeled away the thin fabric of the tent entrance. A gust of chill wind greeted him as he exited the small safe haven and snuck through the campsite, careful not to step on any branches or twigs. 

He snuck his way back through the forest leading towards the cave as though he knew it like the back of his hand - every twist and turn became his expertise. Felix heavily considered the option of lying to Dimitri and telling him some sort of grandiose lie as an excuse to convince him to move far away from Fhridiad, and from civilization as a whole. However, the option of being honest and explaining his situation to Dimitri grew ever more appealing. Felix could drop his walls, confide in a new acquaintance, and plan a way for both of them to be free from the chains in which they were entrapped. 

With a heavy head Felix arrived back at the cave, surprised to see Dimitri patiently waiting as he asked of him earlier. The radiating warmth from the fire in front of the tired man was strangely welcoming. Dimitri’s malnourished cheekbones and deeply set bags under his eyes were exaggerated by the glowing flame as ash settled on his shoulders and in his lap. He had been sitting there, like this, for some time. 

“Hello,” Dimitri greeted, accompanied by the slow and steady nod of his head. 

“Hey,” Felix bared his teeth in an awkward smile in an attempt to ease the tension he felt in his stomach. Although he was usually awful at reading a room’s emotions the animosity in the room was palpable. 

“So you came back?” Dimitri spoke. 

Felix casually placed his satchel on the ground as he grew accustomed to the cave, “that is what I told you I would do, isn’t it?”

Dimitri dipped his head.

Felix sighed, “and you stayed.”

“Where would I have gone?”

“I’m not sure,” Felix mumbled as he sat down next to the fire. 

“Feli-”

“Dimitri...” Felix interrupted, “...Dimitri, can we talk?”

“About?”

Felix sighed, “about why I keep coming back.”

The faint crackling fire’s light that was cast by the flames danced on the stones that surrounded them, and the flying embers revealed Felix’s distraught face. Felix never knew how to emotionally trust someone else, but, maybe because it was with a stranger that this time things were easier. 

“Mhm,” Dimitri mumbled, making eye contact from across the burning flame. 

“You were right to yell at me earlier, you know?” Felix’s voice was quiet - it was soft. “I keep coming back for myself.” 

Dimitri gazed at him from across the fire, “what's in it for you?”

“It would take too much time,” Felix trailed off.

“We have the whole night.”

“And you really want to listen?”

“Yes,” Dimitri spoke, “I want to know.”

Felix’s face grew tense and his nose scrunched as he took a deep breath in. He lifted his hand to touch the temples of his forehead as though it would provide him any sort of grounding now that he was alone with a stranger and his emotions. 

“It’s about my family,” Felix finally spoke. “Each generation kills a werewolf - and it’s more than just a tradition, it’s a right of passage.” Illuminated in the darkness Felix could tell that Dimitri’s expression remained the same, waiting for him to continue, “so, even if I let you go now, I’d still have to kill you if you stayed in this forest.”

Dimitri sighed, “honor seems to be worth a lot to you then.”

“Family is worth a lot to me - but, I also don’t want to be like them.”

“And so you haven’t talked to them about this?”

“No, I couldn’t,” Felix’s face scrunched tighter than before, “I can never escape this, and I’m not also not strong enough to break the line. I don’t want to kill a werewolf.”

“Do you have any siblings who could do it instead?”

Felix breathed in sharply, “no.” Felix had seen many people cry in his lifetime, and he himself had once been a crybaby. Crying was ugly and dramatic; tears blurring the world and throat so tight that no sounds can escape. Felix gave up crying a long time ago - of showing any emotion, for that matter.

“So,” Dimitri started, “why does this make you think talking to me will help.”

“I don’t know” Felix mumbled, “it’s just, something different... something unexpected. Something that could give me a solution.” 

“The scar,” Felix questioned.

“What about it?”

“Well, I’ve told you about me, you better start opening,” Felix snapped, “like I said, I want any hint at a solution.”

“Why would this have anything to do with a solution?” With a heavy sigh Dimitri looked away, “You’re all the same, you know that right?”

Felix looked back in confusion.  _ What did he mean by that? _

“Hunters,” Dimitri answered before Felix had the chance to ask, “you jump before thinking”

“So someone like me gave that to you,” It was not a question, rather- a solemn statement. Felix felt it in his gut. 

“If you think you are my first run in with someone trying to hunt me down you’re wrong.”

Felix looked away, “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?” Dimitri hummed, “you didn’t do it.”

“No, not for that,” Felix rolled his eyes in a huff, “just… just living like this. Everyone out to get you.”

“Yeah, well I wish I could tell you I’ve gotten used to it,” Dimitri chuckled. His soft expression of laughter was gentle and childish despite his rough and rocky heart, and Felix smiled in response.

They talked for the rest of the night, neither sleeping. Felix described his home to Dimitri, what his father was like and how the town looked up to him. Dimitri told stories of various towns he has visited- and likewise towns with pitchforks and fire that he ran away from. In a strange way the two found similarities and comfort within one another. They both came from opposite sides of life, one a hunter and one the hunted, and yet - they were more similar than different. 

When the sun began to peak up from over the horizon and Felix began to feel the lack of sleep affect his body, he decided that it was time to make way back to camp. Their goodbyes were far more civil than before and the feeling of satisfaction by each other's company was mutual. And like that, Felix’s mission was over. The troop returned to Faerghus, and Felix’s strategy of sneaking off had worked. 


	7. Lost

Felix’s visits became regular occurrences. While Dimitri was still hurt, he was healed enough to leave - yet something drew him to stay in his new makeshift den, waiting for Felix to arrive with supplies every so often. The two still spat back and forth, however, they grew to rely on each other’s company for sanity. It went on like this for many weeks. Felix would lead huntsmen on trips far away from the cave to purposefully lure them away, and once at home would make up excuses on why they were having difficulties capturing the werewolf. Whether it be too much snow, or a sprained ankle, Felix found a way to retreat and come back empty handed. Occasionally he would journey up alone to Dimitri, insisting that he worked better without company and would be safe on a solo-trek. Luckily, his father permitted this - under the table - as Felix came back unharmed after every mission. However, official approval of Felix’s solo missions called for a council meeting between commanders to be held at a later date.

Felix brought food that was safe for travel - usually some fruit, thinly sliced meat, bread, and an assortment of baked treats. Dimitri would also introduce Felix to his own food: game slowly cooked on a fire, roasted foraged mushrooms, harvested spices, and some cold hardy nuts that grew in the area. Felix was surprised at his own enjoyment of the dishes they would prepare together, and he often found himself missing their meals together when he was back home.

They also had set up places for each other to rest. In addition to Dimitri’s pelts, Felix had stolen quilts from his home and snuck them up into the mountains. Their usual conversations were riddled with sharp, sarcastic jabs at each other - but more often than not they shared their darker chapters in life. Neither had much genuine human interaction before this, so having company they could trust was beyond needed for both of them.

It was on one of these nights that Felix began to open up to the larger man. “Dimitri,” he hummed, sitting next to the larger man as he snacked on wild blueberries, “have you always been alone?”

Dimtri’s shoulders slouched, “well, yes and no.”

“How so?” Felix nodded inquisitively, confused at Dimitri’s response.

“I’m always around, hopping from town to town in between spurts of transforming. I’ve never settled in one place for long enough to form meaningful bonds with anyone.”

“So why do you keep leaving then?” Felix mumbled in between bites.

“It’s not that simple. People start catching on when I am in and out of the forest too often, when I disappear for days at a time and suddenly reappear, when there livestock mysteriously goes missing-”

“Okay I get your point,” Felix interrupted, “so why don’t you just, I don’t know, stay human?”

Dimitri chuckled, “you don’t understand much, do you?”

“And what don’t I understand?” Felix’s eyes narrowed and shoulders tensed at the playful insult.

“I don’t choose when I’m a wolf and when I am a human. It’s almost like… like coughing - you hold it in until you absolutely can’t bear it, and break into an uncontrollable fit when you finally give in.”

Felix was sharp and cunning, but it came from a place of longing for acceptance. He wanted nothing more than to make others proud, unrelentlessly inquiring the world around him to do so. Dimitri was controlled by some other being- something bigger than his own will. The urge to transform would brew in Dimitri before he would finally give in; and, once he dissociated fully, he became a beast he could not recognize until something triggered him back. Felix began to piece together some of the information about werewolves that no books could teach.

“You know” Felix sighed, “I’ve done a lot of research on werewolves.”

Dimitri scoffed, “and found what, that we are bloodthirsty killers that eat humans? We have this conversation every time you come and visit.”

“No- about bloodlines, transformation cycles, territory patterns. I’m certain a large portion of it is wrong, but I also know there’s got to be some trueness to it.” Felix swallowed before finishing, “if we put our heads together I know we could solve the unknown.”

“Maybe,” Dimitri whispered.

“Here,” Felix offered as he pulled his leather-bound notebook out of his jacket, “I’ve been writing down everything that I know.”

Dimitri took the journal inquisitively. He flipped through the parchment quickly, stopping once every few pages as something caught his eye before dismissing it with a shake of his head.

“Anything stand out?” Felix questioned.

“Nothing other than this,” Dimitri scoffed, holding the sketch Felix had drawn of him earlier up into the light. It was mangled; an accurate representation of a werewolf's likeness. However, Dimitri could not help but notice the delicateness in which Felix sketched.

“Oh fuck you,” Felix rolled his eyes dramatically with a huff.

Dimitri smiled, “no, actually it’s quite good. There’s a lot in here that might help.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Dimitri replied, ending their conversation in favor of the lighthearted chit chat that ensued afterwards.

Overtime, the two had also grown to learn simple yet intimate things about each other. Once, while wrapping a fresh bandage over Dimitri’s shoulders Felix had accidentally brushed his arm against the side of his head, which embarrassingly led to the discovery that Dimitri loved a gentle scratch behind the ear. Dimitri discovered that Felix was hesitant to touch others. If Felix did not initiate contact, he would flinch at even a hand extended towards him. Dimitri never said anything on the matter, but the hesitancy and avoidance in Felix’s mannerisms was manifest.

No matter how much the two disagreed with each other, they found a way to indulge in each other’s most hidden secrets as they tried to find solutions so that both of them could be free. They still had slim ideas at best, but they began to piece together leads as the weeks drew on in anticipation for spring. The closer the two grew, the more Felix’s guilt still seared inside of him as strong as ever - if not even stronger. He had hurt someone that he had grown to care for, and that scar he caused with his own two hands would be there forever. Felix wanted nothing more than to find a way for Dimitri to live freely, without being trapped in the confines of his own demons .

However, he began to see little changes. The way Dimitri lifted his chin when Felix would enter their cave- and even while Dimitri remained human Felix could have sworn that his ears perked upon his arrival. In his eyes Felix could tell he wanted to be able to trust, to be able to forgive humans and find a peaceful home. Maybe it was some far off dream, or maybe it was Felix projecting his own emotions upon his new acquaintance - but he understood that the two of them had more similarities than differences.

As Felix’s visits grew more frequent, the time he spent at home grew short. Sylvain knew excuses and ways to hide rendezvous as though it was second nature, and while Felix insisted that he and Dimitri were simply friends - nothing more- Sylvain’s help cleared any suspicion of Felix’s whereabouts when he disappeared from groups or left for solo missions. They crafted the scheme that Felix had made acquaintances with a few hunters from nearby towns when they happened to be scouting the same trail at the same time. This came at a cost when Rodrigue had asked to meet him; however, Sylvain also came in handy then with more white lies and excuses.

One night, Rodrigue decided to press further on the matter, “Felix, you have been going out on many missions alone. Far more than usual, for the matter.”

Felix sighed with a swift roll of his eyes, “I’m just sooo excited to catch a werewolf I guess.”

Rodrgiue chuckled, seeing right through his son’s sarcasm, “you can tell me anything you know - I am your father.”

Felix’s shoulders stiffened, “there is nothing to tell.”

Rodrigue smiled, “you’ve been meeting with this boy from another town often. What did you say his name was again?”

“Dimitri.” Felix spoke. It was short and quick, like a fast jab.

“Ah, Dimitri,” Rodrigue continued, “next time you two meet up make sure to tell him your father sends his regards.”

Felix huffed at his father’s conspicuous suspicions as his face blushed red, “I won't.”

“I know,” Rodrigue smiled, “I will eventually get to meet this man though.”

Before standing up to return up to his room, Felix sighed dramatically as he crossed his arms to distract his father from the color on his cheeks, “if you’re lucky.”

The stairs creaked as they always did as Felix delicately scaled them. His father’s questions left nothing but a sinking hole in his stomach, as he hated being put on the spot - and he even more so hated the fact that Rodrigue could see through his lies. He sighed and briskly flattened out the wrinkles on his shirt with the swift swipe of his palm, recollecting himself quickly. Against his better judgement, he made a promise to himself that one way or another he would introduce his father to Dimitri, just not yet.

* * *

  
The week felt as though it could have been years to Felix as his curiosity and fascination with the werewolf only grew. Eventually, it was Friday again - and Felix prepared to journey towards Dimitri’s cave once more. The two grew closer with each visit, which was more than what Felix could say for most people in his life, which was the one topic of conversation that Felix wished to share with his newfound friend this weekend.

Dimitri was not there when Felix first arrived, and while unusual, it was not worrisome. Dimitri lacked the punctuality that Felix mastered, and the young huntsman  
Morning came, and still no Dimitri. Not for the rest of the day, nor Sunday.

One missed weekend was not earth shattering in any ways. Dimitri was part monster, it was only to be expected. But, when the next week rolled, and then the next, the pit in Felix’s stomach only worsened.

His thoughts began to spiral as he was left alone in the darkness on the third weekend that Dimitri had not shown up for. For all he knew, Dimitri was dead. Killed by hunters, eaten by another beast who was lucky to stumble upon him in his weakened form, or from a fall while off foraging. What if Dimitri ran away out of hatred? Felix’s eyes began to water. He was never good at dealing with change - it always tore apart his insides like a hurricane. Felix had grown more reliant on Dimitri than he had realized, and it all came crashing down on him at once.

Felix stayed in that same spot for the entire weekend, only moving to tend to the fire, collect water, and have a few sporadic meals. Each hour passed as though it could have been a year - and Felix could have sworn that his vision grew blurred and static as time moved on.  
Dimitri was gone.


	8. Rest

Everyone worried about Felix when he suddenly began to deteriorate after coming home from his last mission. His father, his friends, and the entire town noticed a difference in the once model hunter as the constant back and forth between home and the cave grew to become insufferable both physically and mentally, and the toll it took upon Felix was evident. Dark circles replaced his once pristine under eyes and his already scornful resting face was only amplified. The other huntsmen assumed it was due to the stress of the overly extended time that their search took on, and so Felix was granted extra space by all those around him. He snapped at everything that moved or spoke; a slow carriage, a brief conversation, even the dining table was not safe from his reign. 

It had been four weeks since Felix had last seen Dimitri. Felix relentlessly demanded an extended solo mission, and by some miracle, he was granted approval. Rodrigue called a meeting before Felix left on his first  _ official _ solo mission. The basement of their house had been filled with rows of chairs set up around a semi-circular table as commanders took their seats. After hearing complaints and business - worries about strategies and supplies - little to now objections arose towards Felix’s proposal. Felix no longer needed to give further instructions and lies to the huntsmen he led, and the only wave of relief he had felt since Dimitri’s disappearance rushed over him. 

The plethora of treks would shortly cease, and he would be all alone to catch up on all the rest he missed. Dimitri was the only thing on his mind, and the memories of that man kept Felix up all night, restless. Did Dimitri abandon Felix? Was he captured by other towns’ hunters? Was he lost, all alone and afraid?  _ Did he die?  _ Felix refused to entertain his heavy thoughts further without acting. Dimitri had been his single escape, when they were together Felix allowed himself to forget about the expectations that weighed him down. With Dimitri, Felix felt free. The warmth of trusting another person was so foreign to Felix, and the thought of losing that trust seared fear into his mind. 

He had not given his feelings much forethought. Felix’s usual behavior was so calculated and perfect, thinking carefully before each step and expecting nothing less than excellence. He had yet to give himself the time to catch up with his emotions before Dimitri left, but he liked him. A lot. Whenever Dimitri talked Felix would have sworn he drank the words like a fine wine, and he enjoyed the feeling of getting tipsy like nothing else. There were lions in his chest whenever he daydreamed about their time together, and Felix finally admitted to himself what he knew all along but was in denial of: Felix had undeniably caught feelings. And, just maybe, he had fallen in love with the feeling of falling in love.

When the sun hung low, Felix walked down the stairs from his bedroom and into the shop front of his home. No longer sneaking at night, he was able to take his time and pack ample supplies; extra medicine, cloth bandages, and blankets and pillows. By nature, he packed double of all the necessities- he was used to it, and, if there was any chance he would find Dimitri he needed to be prepared. 

“Felix, be careful, alright?” Rodrigue stood in the doorway with extra flasks of water. 

“I will be dad,” Felix answered, “don’t worry.”

Rodrigue beamed at his son as if it were his first mission all over again, “this is what you were born for, don’t be frightened.” 

Felix rolled his eyes as he registered both the comfort and distaste those words held before replying, “I’m ready to leave now.” 

“That’s my son,” Rodrigue chuckled at one of Felix’s first displays of sarcasm in many weeks, “see you soon.”

Felix began his trek into the woods, the cave being nothing more than a distant smudge on the horizon. His hope had run thin as time after time he found no Dimitri waiting for him; however, perhaps somewhere deep inside of him he held a glimpse of yearning. 

* * *

His journey that weekend was normal; the terrain was rough and the mountainside was rocky as ever, but Felix had learned to scale it with the dexterity of a cat. Every weekend that he came back to no Dimitri only increased his desire to return twofold. He set up camp that night as always - the small crackling fire, leaning up against the cool wall, and holding a quilted sheet tight to him in the cold. 

Felix sat alone in the cave that once brought him so much comfort and relief. The rock was cold and unwelcoming, the ground felt as though it were made of tiny needles pricking his body- and, if he had kept his eyes shut for long enough, he could have sworn that Dimitri was there next to him. Felix’s ears rang with a sharp static. It wasn’t that the snow absorbed the sound, or that wildlife remained asleep; no, there was simply nothing Felix wished to hear. 

A pebble tumbled into a small roll from outside the cave, and silence. The ringing broke and Felix’s head perked towards the direction of the cavern’s opening, watching in anticipation for Dimitri to walk through - for everything to be alright. By this point, Felix believed that the more he longed for something, the less likely it would come back, that it would be safe. If he tricked himself into thinking Dimitri would never return, maybe, just maybe, his figure would stand from outside - to run up to Felix, lovingly, and to caress him in a warm embrace. But no one was there. 

When dawn came Felix groaned in frustration. The first night ended- nothing, as usual and as expected. Even though his body ached to stretch, Felix only moved from his spot the next day for food and water from his pack. Passive, distraught, and lonely, he sat as minutes went by like hours, waiting for something to change. Such a day was a horror to him.

The sun set once more, and Felix prepared to relive the emotional strain as the night before. The small strand of hope and anticipation that would only be shattered by the blatant reality that he refused to acknowledge taunted him. Felix’s hands pressed to his forehead in pain, dehydration, and stress. He did not know that anyone could ever lead him to such pathetic and desperate measures, and he was ashamed of himself to allow his emotions to run awry.

Felix was lost, head spinning and on the verge of giving up when a large figure appeared from the entrance. It was mangled; bruised, bloodied, and scratched. It stood at a near 10 feet tall with pointed ears and a ragged tail that lay limp near its feet. Its breathing sounded more like snarls- rumbling, menacing, and cold. Thick steam arose from the warmth of the creature as it met the cold winter air, and puffs of small clouds rose out of its nostrils. It was the wolf Felix saw when they first met. Dimitri’s teeth were sharp, and he bore them with a rage and aggression that resembled nothing that Felix had recognized. It turned to look Felix in the eye - glowing iridescent blue orbs pierced throughout the cave. 

“Dimitri, oh god Dimitri,” Felix gasped.

As though on command, the werewolf lunged forwards onto all fours, racing in the direction of Felix. Its pupils were enlarged and glossed over- no longer restrained, the beast inside of him gave into its true instincts. Felix’s breath hitched at the display of malice, and anxiety rose up to clog his throat. He could not bring himself to fight back, he could never try to stab Dimitri or hurt him in any way, not again. He had no logical answers, no amount of training or muscle memory could have prepared him for this. 

“Dimitri!” He shouted, voice cracking in fear and sorrow. 

The beast stopped, its ears perked and eyes softer. Dimitri was not there, but something in its primal nature recognized that Felix was not a threat. This was different from their first encounter. Dimitri undoubtedly had no control; however, an aura about the werewolf had changed. It sniffed the air with a scrunched nose as it observed Felix. Its teeth were still barred, sharp and dangerous stakes that could pierce Felix’s flesh at any second. But, Felix did not move. 

“Dimitri?” he asked once more, trembling now. 

Nothing had changed; its fur did not disappear and Felix could find no sign of his companion.

While staring into the eyes of a beast that could tear him to shreds, Felix ran solutions through his head. Every thought, every rational or solution - none led to an answer. The gears shifted as Felix remembered a basic tactic in hunting that he had learned at a young age: when one rescues an animal from the wild as a baby, they are often hard to re-release. Extensive training, nurturing, and conditioning goes into simulating their natural habitat. If they become reliant on a human - say, for food or survival, they no longer recognize humans as a threat. Sometimes, when they are caught young enough they even imprint of their savior. 

_ Had Dimitri become reliant on me? Was it because I healed him? Does he recognize me as family? _

Felix was unsure if this was true, and if it was, Dimitri may have simply done this precautionary measure. Dimitri could have known that he would shift back into a werewolf and used this as a foreseeable protection to not hurt Felix, but, there was also the alternative answer that burned in the back of Felix’s mind: did Dimitri think of him as something more. Felix tried not to entertain this thought further. 

“I’m so sorry,” Felix whispered, extending his hand the same way he had done when they had first met, when Dimitri was still half a wolf, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, I could have done more.” Felix’s voice broke. 

Once the werewolf had accepted the touch on its cheek with a calm breath, Felix stumbled closer. He wrapped his arms around it’s thick torso, fingers lacing through its soft fur. Felix felt his skin melt into the warmth of Dimitri. He hadn’t realized how reliant he grew to be on the larger man. He not only brought comfort, but he was an escape for Felix. His expectations, his destiny; Dimitri had broken down those barriers and had opened an endless amount of opportunities that Felix had full control over. Felix squeezed tighter, he wanted Dimitri back - he didn’t want anyone to ever take someone he loved away from him again.

“Relax, it’s okay, I’m here” Felix mumbled into his fur. 

Felix felt Dimitri’s chest slowly rise and fall as his breathing began to relax. The hug was not gentle and soft, rather, Felix pressed every once of his soul into the strength of his arms. He was more alive than he had been in a long time as he felt the realization that neither of them were alone anymore. 

“I’m here,” Felix once again reassured. 

Soon, after many minutes of Felix’s tight embrace, the beast was replaced with a man in ragged clothes, skin coated in scrapes and bruises. Dimitri’s muscles began to relax as he squeezed Felix back, and, when he was ready, he moved his rough hands to cup Felix’s cheek. The two looked into each other’s eyes, longing and slow. It was the closest the two had ever been to one another. Felix heard Dimitri swallow, and he said, “Felix, I.”

“Shh,” Felix hummed. He stood up on his toes and placed his forehead against Dimitri’s. They stayed there for a moment, happily together. Felix’s heart raced, “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I know,” Dimitri whispered. 

“Please, don’t ever scare me like that again,” Felix said, trying to cover the waiver in his voice without prevail. 

“I won't.”

Felix buried his face into the crook of Dimitri’s neck, careful of his freshly scarred shoulder, “good.”

After a pause, Dimitri broke the silence, “hey Felix?”

“Yes?” Felix replied, face still hidden away. 

“Look at me.”

He lifted his head at the strange request, and Dimitri gently placed his hand to hold Felix’s chin. 

Dimitri moved his head forwards and tentatively grazed his lips against Felix’s. They were surprisingly soft and warm, and while this first kiss was light and brief, it left Felix bright red and flustered. Dimitri was no more than an inch away from Felix’s face, lips barely parted from the gentle peck, before Felix leaned in for more. He laced his hands into Dimitri’s hair and gripped to the back of his neck. The kiss was tender at first; sweet and reassuring and full of comfort and softness. Every few seconds the two separated as a delicate smile creeped up the corners of his cheeks- but, he could not keep himself parted for a second before wanting to kiss once more. 

It melted into something more passionate, filled with a mutual longing and suppression. Felix did not know how long he had deprived himself of this, but it felt as though his entire life had built up to Dimitri. Everything led to Dimitri. Like a butterfly drawn to nectar, it felt instinctual. His adoration for Dimitri no longer felt like a question with no logical answer or something he had to work out and decipher on his own. Instead, Felix allowed himself to live in the moment, absorb the feeling of happiness, and to love once again. 

Once they finally parted, Felix smiled brightly. It was warm and genuine - it felt more natural than breathing, and exuded a warmth that left Dimitri in awe. Felix grasped at the shirt covering Dimitri’s back, feeling the cool linen dance between his fingertips. If moments could be eternal - if they could be bottled up and relieved forever - Felix would have given the world to stay here and do nothing else than embrace the man he grew to love. 

“How are we going to make this work,” Felix looked up into the glowing eyes of his lover. 

“It doesn’t matter if things work or not, just please not matter what - just stay.”

Felix wondered if Dimitri could hear his rapid heartbeat and feel his warm breath grow heavier. He was never one for romance as he preferred a life of seclusion, but he was now ready to finally let someone in. 

Felix stuttered, a rare clumsiness that Dimitri found irresistable, “t-thank you.” 

Dimitri nodded. It was gentle and slow, and when the words finally came Felix flinched, “spend the night.”


	9. Peace

The fire burnt warmer than usual that night. The waft of smoke, wood, and cool moss clung to Felix’s hair and coat as the two relaxed over a pot of tea. Despite them having evenings like this plenty of times before, somehow, tonight’s felt special. 

Dimitri cleared his throat as he often did before speaking, “Felix, we need a plan.”

Felix lifted his cup towards his lips before mumbling into his tea, “well, everyone at home thinks I’ve met another hunter, and that we are working effectively to find the werewolf. I’d say we are fine.”

“And, so you expect me to pose as this man?” Dimitri asked. 

“That was the idea,” Felix said. Dimitri could tell by the quietness of his voice that Felix was unsure. 

“What happens when I transform? When they find out?”

Felix paused and took a sip of his tea before responding, “well, we’ll have to get that under control, won't we?”

“How?”

“Well, you can’t help but transform on the full moon,” Felix replied, “we know that from when I first met you.”

“And, this last time?” Dimitri thought out loud. 

“That's what I’m unsure about,” Felix conceded. 

Dimitri nodded, “you helped me come back after the last time - actually, both times.”

“So, I’ll be here. We can time missions around this.” Felix sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, no longer relaxed by the fireside. 

“What about spontaneous transformations? One’s we can’t predict - like last time?” Dimitri’s voice trembled with the slightest note of anxiety.

Felix froze. He found himself asking the same question often, and he had no apparent solution. He wanted nothing more for Dimitri to come home with him, for everything to run smoothly, and for them to start out their new lives together; no longer bound under pressure of expectations or purpose. 

Dimitri broke the silence of Felix’s thoughts, “maybe the answer to that is similar.”

“How?” Felix asked, “we can’t time missions around something that we can’t predict.”

“It might not be unpredictable,” Dimitri sighed, “there might be a way around it.”

Felix’s eyes widened, “what do you think that is?”

“Well,” Dimitri started, “when I am around you I feel in control. I don’t feel like someone who is alone, anxious, and fighting myself with every step I take. That has to be worth something.”

“So,” Felix thought out loud, “do you think anxiety and separation play a role in this?”

“Maybe,” Dimitri hummed. 

The once burning fire’s logs grew white with ash as their conversation drew out, and the two huddled close together for the night. It had taken some time, but Dimitri was now stable in his human form and his muscles were less tense. Dimitri’s arms were warm and strong around Felix’s sides, pulling him close into a comforting embrace. 

“Dimitri?” Felix asked, breathing out as his head rested on Dimitri’s shoulder. 

Dimitri’s head shifted to make eye contact with Felix, “Yes?”

“When you came back to the cave, still as a wolf, what stopped you from attacking me?”

Dimitri responded with silence, indicating to Felix that they both knew the answer. Felix could hear the faint tremor of Dimitri’s heartbeat and the slowness in his breath as his shoulders crept up and stiffened. 

“Well,” he began, “it’s because I know you.”

“No,” Felix responded, “why really?”

Dimitri’s face softened and his brows relaxed, “I didn’t want to ever risk attacking you.”

“Oh,” Felix hummed teasingly, “that’s all?”

"Do you really need me to say it out loud," Dimitri grumbled. 

Felix hummed and nodded in response. 

“Don’t act too upset - I only fucking imprinted onto you,” Dimitri chuckled sarcastically before planting a light kiss on Felix's forehead. He did not often crack jokes, let alone ones quite as sharp, and Felix smiled in response. 

“I know - thank you.”

“You’ve been coming to visit a lot,” Dimitri began, “and, well, it’s been nice.”

Felix’s gaze shifted towards the once alive fire. The embers grew obsolete on the charred wood, and the smell of burning began to fade. 

“Yeah, it has,” he responded at last. With Dimitri, he felt safe. His anxieties, responsibilities, and pain all melted away when he visited, and Felix grew addicted The physical and mental comfort of Dimitri.

“Felix?” Dimitri asked.

“Yes?”

“I’m happy,” he sighed, “that you came into my life.”

“As am I,” Felix beamed. 

Dimitri hummed and looked down at the shorter man, “since you’ve been around I smile a lot more than I used to.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed pink as he processed the sweetness of Dimitri’s words. The two rarely shared honest moments like these, usually differing to the option of showing rather than saying. However, Felix absorbed the feeling of Dimitri voicing his adoration. 

“Even when you aren’t around I find myself thinking of you.” Dimitri continued sweetly, now grasping Felix’s hands in his own, “we should stay together. No more back and forth, no more hiding. Properly together.”

Felix smiled and sighed. Dimitri’s blue eye twinkled brightly and beautifully, softening Felix’s cold exterior, “It seems like that might just be some far off dream.”

“Only for now,” Dimitri smiled.

“Yes, for now,” Felix repeated to himself before muttering, “and when that day comes, I’ll be yours.”

The two sat huddled for some time and enjoyed the simple comfort of each other’s presence. Felix never imagined himself as the romantic type, however, something about Dimitri had changed him. The time before they met now seemed to be but a simple memory - a flash of miserable years that flew by before he finally allowed himself to live. Being with Dimitri, just now in this moment, made him feel love once again. 

* * *

It went on like this for many weeks. Felix would lead huntsmen on trips far away from the cave, and come back empty handed. On the weekends he would journey up to Dimitri on his solo missions and the two would plan for the future. They explored ideas of Dimitri sneaking back into Fhirdiad with Felix, and the two eventually moving into their own home. The desire to be domestic - cooking dinner, sleeping together in a large comfortable bed, and even one day starting a family - seemed to be a far off dream, only achievable in their imaginations and discussions together. Nonetheless, Felix prepared for when that day would theoretically come. 

Their conversations also grew deeper. Their pressures, goals, desires, and anxieties all were so similar to one another. Felix had felt trapped in his own skin, blood, and identity - but now he was freed when he finally met someone who has faced similar strife.

Sometimes the visits were short and sweet. The two would cuddle, laugh, and kiss as they enjoyed each other's company. Other times, they were heavy with days of deep conversations and planning - carefully crafting an itinerary that included up to the most minute details. But, this particular evening started off as the gentle sort. 

Parting lips after a delicate kiss, Felix giggled; “Mitri, when you come home, what will we tell everyone?”

Dimitri smiled and shifted as the two sat on the cool rock of the cavern, “I’m not sure, why do you ask?

“I don't know, I suppose I’m excited is all” Felix sighed as he looked into Dimitri’s eye. “Have you played it out,” he continued, “like, in your head?”

“Played what out, exactly?” Dimitri questioned, confused by the sudden display of affection. 

“I don’t know, anything,” Felix mumbled, “about Fhridiad - or about meeting my family.”

Dimitri sighed and squeezed Felix up to his chest a little tighter, “well, who would I have to meet?”

“Just my father, I guess.”

Dimitri nodded in response, “that’s right, when we first met you told me that you had no siblings.”

“Good memory.” Felix sighed and looked away. He was bitterly reminded of his brother, and of the fact that he avoided talking to Dimitri further about the subject. 

Dimitri’s breath was warm in the cold winter weather and he closed his eyes. The storm season began to pass and the forest began to thaw in preparation for spring, and there was a certain scent of sweetness that accompanied the air with the change of seasons. He smiled to himself, preparing what to say next.

“I haven’t thought too much about that yet,” Dimitri beamed, “I hope I can make a good first impression.”

“I’m sure you will,” Felix paused before his brows furrowed. 

“Is something wrong?"

Felix looked back up once more towards Dimitri whose face was now painted with a mix of curiosity and concern, “I did have a brother- a while ago, that is.”

Dimitri nodded in response. It was slow and solemn, filled with an understanding and empathy. 

“He died while hunting - I was told it was an accident, a mission gone wrong.” Felix paused briefly. He did not often talk about Glenn, if not ever, and communicating his sorrow felt foreign. “He was older than me, and he loved protecting the forest.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dimitri whispered as he pulled Felix close. 

“It’s just, it’s complicated,” Felix sighed, “I loved him, and looked up to him - I still do. But I never wanted to be him - and I never had a choice but to be him.”

Dimitri nodded in response, allowing for Felix to continue. 

"There's just this void in my family now that I can't help but feel as though I'm pressured to fill. "

“You aren’t him, you know that right?”

Those words clouded in his mind like a thick fog. They were something that Felix had yet to hear in his life, and was a simple phrase that he needed to hear. Somehow, through facing his destiny that one full moon and meeting Dimitri is what set him free from those chains. Felix gripped Dimitri’s back firmly, just to reassure himself. This was real, and he finally felt grounded. His core told him that he could let his walls down, that he was safe. For once in his life he felt as though he wasn’t alone. He was held, he was loved, and it was undoubtedly mutual. His heart was beginning to feel at peace.

After many minutes of silence as Dimitri held Felix close, Felix whispered, "why are we doing this."

“What do you mean?” Dimitri questioned. 

Felix felt his chest rise and fall before mumbling, “I mean this - hunting, monsters - everything is wrong.”

Dimitri swallowed and let his eye fall to a delicate close. “Do you think you can change it?”

“I- I don’t know.”

Dimitri shifted over towards Felix and placed a light peck on his forehead, “whatever you chose, I’ll be here no matter what.” 

“I’m going to miss you when I go back home this week,” Felix sighed. “You always help me find the answers. I feel so scared and lost without you.”

“I know,” Dimitri spoke, “but right now we are together, and I’m not letting you go.”


End file.
